


Great Minds Think Alike, But Egos Rarely Let Them

by PaulKeatingOfficial



Category: Smallville, The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: ...synergy...is that good enough?, Alcohol, Bathroom Sex, Cell Phones, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Drinking, Earth-2, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multiverse, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Teasing, and because its a fic of mine, everyone is bi, god these tags aren't making me look good, i promise the fic is mostly character stuff, my excuse for writing this is of course..., there's a lot of harry, which is a weird choice for an almost exclusively Lionel account but whatevs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2019-11-15 13:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18074543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaulKeatingOfficial/pseuds/PaulKeatingOfficial
Summary: Dr Harrison Wells may have founded S.T.A.R Labs, but he didn’t start there and Lionel Luthor intends to remind him of that fact. When Lionel seizes his opportunity, during Harrison’s keynote speech, to reassert his presence in Harrison’s life, Harrison finds himself with some choices to make. He only has a few days to size Lionel up, professionally and personally, before he decides whether or not he can trust him. And if not, whether he ought to risk it anyway.





	1. A Timely Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place on Earth-2 several years before the events of Smallville s10 and therefore even longer before the events of Flash s1.

“Innovation, for the sake of innovation, is a worthy goal. That, above all else, is what I’ve spent the last thirty minutes trying to say. The avid, unceasing, occasionally reckless pursuit of progress, no matter the field, is in my opinion the most important objective one can have. Just because something has been done before, doesn’t mean it can’t be done better, faster and by me.”

Harrison paused, to let the ripple of subdued laughter make its way across the crowd. He touched a hand to his glasses, smiling softly into his notes. These subtle mannerisms were a few hints to onlookers that perhaps he wasn’t as aloof and arrogant as he seemed. They insinuated that maybe Harrison had a sense of humour about himself, and that his lack of humility was more ironic than genuine.

That was bullshit of course. Harrison was an excellent judge of his own abilities, and made it a point to let others know as well. But, if he didn’t want to burn all the bridges he had in their scientific community, implying modesty was a necessity. He would rather not have to consider them at all, but business was business, and Harrison had turned his scientific career into a business, so what choice did he have.

“Just because something works. Just because a concept isn’t broken. It doesn’t mean that it can’t improve, can’t be fixed. I know this isn’t a new concept to any of you. After all, asking these questions and seeking their answers is why we exist, it’s why we’re gathered here this weekend. But,”

Harrison paused again. It wasn’t for laughter this time. He swept his jacket back, one hand on his hip, the other gently tapping the podium in front of him, as he considered. He’d re-written his next lines so many times that the scribbles on his script looked like they’d been redacted by the government. How could he phrase what he had to say in a way that they would understand?

They’d been nodding along, so far, like they got it, but Harrison knew it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t sure there was anyone in that room who actually knew what he was saying. Plenty of people heard him, and Harrison knew they were smart enough to understand, but he could tell they were reading his declarations as platitudes. There was nothing symbolic about what he was saying, and he wished he could shake a few of them by the shoulders until he’d made that clear.

A muttering broke out amongst the audience, but Harrison soon discovered it wasn’t directed at him and his awkward hesitation. Opposite him, framed by the wide doorway at the back of the conference hall, stood a man in a dark suit. He had a striped scarf sitting on his shoulders, framing his delicately pinstriped waistcoat and refined mauve shirt collar. The soles of his immaculately shined shoes echoed through the room as he made his way down the aisle, the hem of his long, black coat fluttering behind him.

The man moved casually, as if he had no idea that the eyes of every scientist in attendance were on him. Harrison knew him better than that. He knew there was nothing more important to him, in that or any other moment, than the fact that everyone there was thinking about him. He shook out his long, dark hair slightly as he found a seat and slid easily into it, crossing one slender leg over the other as he sat back to listen.

Harrison cleared his throat after that display was finished, and frowned down at his notes. This entrance had changed things for him, somewhat. Perhaps there was someone in this crowd with the sort of vision he was looking for after all.

“We are, none of us, bound in essence, to a set of rules decided for us by others.” He began, the frown not yet leaving his face.

“Boundaries are erected to contain our perspectives, to bind them to a grounding force, to brand them with a word, ‘realistic’. That doesn’t make those boundaries themselves, real. In my mind, barriers are established with only one feature that redeems their existence; that they can be overcome. These barriers can be anything: another qualification from an institution, the unimaginative mission statement from the upper-management of your companies. It could be the threat of disappointment from our mentors…”

Harrison couldn’t stop his eyes from flicking to the man again, despite specifically telling himself not to. The man simply scratched his beard with an amused expression.

“…or the laws of Thermodynamics.” Harrison finished his sentiment to another generous smattering of laughter.

“Every obstacle to progress is a construct made only to be torn down. In truth, that is the only way progress can ever be made.”

He allowed his words to sit in the silence of the hall for a moment. Leaning forwards to the microphone, Harrison nodded.

 “Thank you for your time, enjoy the rest of your convention.”

Harrison didn’t look at the crowd as they applauded. He shuffled his papers as he allowed the sounds of veneration to wash over him. There were two reasons for this; one was that he was again attempting to convey his very real humility in the face of praise, the second being that he knew if he made eye contact with any of them, they would inevitably come up and try to talk to him.

He wasn’t in the mood for that. In truth, he was hardly ever in the right mood for that, because he wasn’t really the right person for that. A discussion of theoretical science was generally welcomed by him, as would be a debate on the particulars of current methodologies, but that wasn’t what they would want to say. They would want to network, to make small talk, to advertise their skills to him and force him to respond in kind. Harrison was not partial to any of it.

Despite his attempt to disengage, Harrison still found himself approached. There were some over-eager scientists in the bunch, wanting to discuss the finer points of his speech, and his ideas, but they were drowned by the louder voices in the pack. Harrison could barely step away from the podium he felt so swarmed by well-wishers, attention-seekers and conference officials.

Struggling to maintain his composure, Harrison tried to answer the questions asked of him as politely as possible. Where he could, he tried to engage the ones making serious points, but it was difficult when he felt his heart-rate rising and the crush of the horde closing in. Harrison didn’t like crowds. He was fine when he was in front of them, when he was in control, but surrounding him, touching him, that was something else.

Just as he found himself close to breaking, when he knew he was only a second away from snapping, and irrevocably damaging the feelings of some innocent researcher, Harrison forced himself forward a few steps and found himself face to face with a man in a long, black coat. The chattering and questioning died out in bits and pieces as the two men looked at each other.

“That was quite the inspirational speech, Dr Wells.” He announced, extending his hand.

Harrison took it. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Dr Luthor.”

A low muttering broke out behind him as Harrison shook Lionel’s hand, the same as it had when he’d walked into the room. If you associated with Lionel Luthor for long enough, you tended to get used to it. Lionel used his grip on Harrison’s hand to pull him closer and clasp an arm around his shoulders, brusquely leading him away from the mob.

“It’s not often someone remembers to include the ‘doctor’ in my title.” Lionel mused as he directed Harrison down the aisle, towards the exit.

“It’s not often you give them a reason to.” Harrison countered, allowing himself to be led. As long as Lionel was talking to you, it was unlikely that anyone else would dare to interrupt.

His tongue-in-cheek response was a matter of course when talking to Lionel, but in actuality, if anyone were to forget Lionel’s academic qualifications, they would be making a mistake. To assume Lionel didn’t have the scientific basis to understand what you were talking about, was to give him a huge advantage over you, and that was the last thing you wanted. God help anyone who tried to get one over on him because of it.

Harrison assumed that Lionel played hard into the businessman persona specifically so he could trip people up when they underestimated him. Still, he could have imagined it, but he thought Lionel’s face had brightened when he’d addressed him correctly.

 “Was that a rebuke I heard in your voice, Dr Wells?” Lionel tightened his grip on Harrison’s shoulder slightly. “If it was, I must have imagined the last several years of your career. Otherwise, I doubt you’d have a leg on which to stand.”

Harrison rolled his eyes.

“An opinion on my career? That’s unexpected.”

Lionel laughed. He had the sort of laugh that, in the right situation, could chill your bones.

 “Don’t mistake me, Harrison. It wasn’t a criticism. You’re doing something worthwhile with your research, and profiting off it before someone else can.”

They’d finally made their way into the lobby, and as they did, Harrison slipped out from Lionel’s hold. He shook his head.   

 “I’m not in it for the money.”

Lionel waved off his protest and was about to speak again when a burly man in a suit hurried over to them.  

“Phone call, Mr Luthor.” He said, handing Lionel his cell.  

With only the barest nod to Harrison to end the conversation, Lionel took the phone and spun on his heel. He walked away, speaking into the receiver intently before Harrison could figure out whether the call was real or not. Harrison watched him leave, rooted to the spot, feeling uncharacteristically spurned by the ease with which Lionel left him.

He made an effort to shake himself out of that mindset. That was how Lionel worked on you. He’d show interest, favouritism even, only to quickly withdraw it, to make you chase after him. Harrison was too competitive for his own good, and Lionel knew exactly how his ego would take it, so Harrison had to be careful not to fall into his game.

Lionel had already done him a favour by rescuing him from the crowd at his keynote. If that was the only interaction they had over the next three days, Harrison knew he should count himself lucky. Still, he couldn’t help wanting to spend a little more of his time with the only man here he knew had the kind of reckless ambition for progress he’d been talking about in his speech. As well as the only person he was sure had the courage to go through with it.

“Harry, you’re not going to believe who I just saw.”

Harrison turned to see Christina McGee hurrying over to him, a takeaway coffee cup in her hand.

“Where did you get that?” He asked, pointing at her cup.

“There’s a café around the corner, near the bar.”

Harrison started walking without another word. Christina fell into step beside him, heading back the way she had come. The hotel in which the convention was being held was as sprawling as it was crowded, and they had to carefully pick their way through the meandering attendees. Harrison didn't mind that Christina hadn’t attended his keynote, she’d had more important things to do. Besides, she’d heard the speech half a dozen times already, and given him more than a few revisions as well. Most of them had to do with not indirectly insulting his colleagues and contemporaries.

“Guess who I saw.” She insisted as they walked.  

Harrison didn’t have to guess, but he made a show of considering it anyway.

“Simon Stagg?” He threw out, pausing for a moment to scan the rooms in front of him for the elusive café. In his peripheral vision he saw Christina make a face and smiled to himself.

 “No. Well, yes, but I ducked behind a group of micro-biologists before he could see me.”

Harrison could smell the beans roasting now. He quickened his pace.

 “Okay, brace yourself but, Lionel Luthor has made his grand re-appearance into the scientific community.”

Harrison kept his face as straight as he could.

“Oh?”

Christina wasn’t dissuaded by his seeming lack of interest. “He and one of his henchman just stormed right past me.”

“You make him sound like a mobster. He has henchman now, what, is he Don Corleone?”

“From the stories I’ve heard that’s not too far off.” They entered the line together and she looked up at him curiously. “Why don’t you look surprised? I thought you hadn’t seen the guy in years.”

“I hadn’t.” Harrison shifted his weight to his other foot and pretended to be inspecting the specials board.

When he finally met Christina’s eyes again, she didn’t look impressed. Harrison made a dismissive noise and rolled his shoulders in a half-shrug.

“I hadn’t,” he stressed, “until he saved me from a ravenous mob about five minutes before you walked over and told me he was here. Thanks for the early warning by the way.”

Christina whacked his shoulder.

“You knew, and you just let me keep talking like an idiot.”

“Hey, I have no power over how you speak to me.” He protested. “If I’ve carried one thing with me since our freshman year, it’s that.”

“You know, I am surprised you remember learning anything from college. You were constantly arguing, even with the professors.” She remarked, wryly.

“I would have shut up and listened if they’d told me something I didn’t know.”

He stepped forward to the counter to order and Christina paused, looking at him for a moment.

“No you wouldn’t.”

Harrison laughed, conceding her point, as the barista came back and took his order.

“Coffee. Large. Black. Four sugars.”

Christina looked askance. “Four? No. I can’t let that happen. Put two.”

“I can order my own coffee, McGee, don’t mother me.”

“I don’t want to tell you how to live your life, Harry, but I can’t just sit back and let a crime take place.”

He stood over her. “Three.”

She looked back defiantly, and then turned to the barista. “Two.”

The barista looked uneasy as he walked away from the pair. Harrison held up four fingers where Christina couldn’t see. The teen nodded back to him, complicit in the conspiracy.

Christina sometimes got it into her head that Harrison was complete wreck if he didn’t have a positive influence in his life. Which was ridiculous, of course. And even if there was any truth to it, it wouldn't matter because he had a positive influence in his life. The fact that he had to be a father to Jesse had turned him into a far more put-together guy than he would be otherwise. He couldn’t crash and burn with her relying on him.

That being said, Jesse was staying with a friend for the weekend, so who was Christina McGee to police whether he was going to destroy his body in his free time? Other than his oldest friend in the world of course.

“So did you talk to him?” Christina asked it casually, but Harrison could detect a note of caution in her voice.

 “Who?”

Naturally, being worried about made Harrison want to be a little difficult.

“Oh I don’t know,” Christina waved her hand in the air, “Robert Queen. Who do you think? Lionel.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Is that all I’m going to get? ‘ _Yeah_ ’.”

Harrison took off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Obviously I want you to gossip with me.” She grinned, but there was something softer behind it. “And I want to know how you feel about it.”

He made a face.

“How I feel- oh don’t be ridiculous.” He shook his head. “I saw him after my speech, we traded a couple of harmless jabs about our companies, and then he was gone. It was maybe five minutes altogether.”

Finally, the barista called his name and Harrison collected his conspiratorially sweetened coffee.

“So you just, joked with him?” She asked as they wandered back towards the lobby.

 “Why shouldn’t I?”

Harrison tried not to sound defensive when he answered, he suspected he was not successful.

“Maybe because he’s been toying with your career, and you, for decades at this point.”

This was an old argument, rehashed a multitude of times over their friendship. Harrison didn’t particularly relish it coming back around after having let it lie for so long.

“You’re giving him too much credit, I’m plenty capable of toying with my own career.” Harrison said, trying to be flippant. Christina wasn’t having it. 

“He tried to sabotage you after you left LuthorCorp.”

Involuntarily, Harrison narrowed his eyes, and his posture stiffened.

“You don’t have any proof of that. Look, if you hate him that much, why did you even bring him up to me?”

“Because I thought maybe you’d had enough time to come to your senses about him. And because I find it suspicious that he shows up to a convention he hasn’t attended for years the same day you give the keynote speech. He’s after something.”

Harrison sipped his coffee angrily.

“Give him a break. You heard what happened to his son? Yeah well, he stopped attending the year Alexander died. I think a little thing like a science conference tends to fall through the cracks after something like that happens.”

The details of Alexander’s death hadn’t been released to the public, but Harrison knew the impact it would have had on Lionel. Every second thing out of the man’s mouth had been about family, when Harrison had known him. Harrison couldn't imagine losing a child. Well, that wasn’t quite right. He didn’t know what it would really be like, but imagining it happening was his worst nightmare. The idea of losing Jesse had haunted many a waking hour of his.

Before the conversation could continue, Harrison excused himself, telling Christina he needed to go change out of his suit. He walked away before she could respond. As he walked down the corridor to his room, he flipped out his phone, hitting the number saved into the home screen.

It rang four times before it was answered, each ring another blow to Harrison’s mental stability. Finally, the call was picked up.  

“Hey Dad.” Came the voice from the other end.

“Hi sweetheart, is everything okay there?”

Jesse laughed. “Yeah dad, everything’s fine. Hey, you know you don’t have to start every conversation that way, right?”

Hearing Jesse’s gentle mockery was a balm to his heart.

“I don’t think so.” He pretended to be confused. “What if something _was_ wrong?”

“Then I would say so.”

He clicked his tongue a few times.

“Hmmm, leaves too much to chance, better not risk it. How’s Monica’s place?”

Jesse told him all about the day she and Monica had had, she listed the movies they’d watched, and Harrison critiqued their choices to her amusement. She also told him about the drama between them and their other school friends, which Harrison listened patiently to, until he was asked his opinion at which point he vehemently and unequivocally took Jesse’s side in the schism.

Harrison never felt more like himself than when he was chatting with his daughter. He stood in his room and ran a hand through his hair, wondering if he should maybe blow off the rest of this event and go home now. He talked to her for as long as he could, until he could tell she wanted to go back to playing with her friend, and then he talked awhile after that as well. Eventually, she managed to get him to say goodbye and actually put down the phone, with many promises that she’d be safe for the next few days.

He ended the call and looked around the room, feeling a little lonelier the moment his daughter was no longer there. He sighed, and indulged his melancholy for a while before doing what he’d told Christina he was going to do. He changed into a black sweater and trousers. It may not be the most professional attire, but Harrison valued comfort over style any day.

He shot a disgruntled look at the dry-cleaning bag hanging off the back off his door, knowing that he would have to wear the tuxedo inside to the benefit dinner that night. He flexed his shoulders, and rubbed his throat, he could already feel it constricting him. Seeking comfort in his pre-emptive grumbling, he left the bedroom and crossed his sitting area to exit the room proper. Downstairs, he finally arrived at the correct lecture hall and spotted Christina waving to him from the front row. He hurried over and slipped into the seat next to her, just in time for the talk to begin.

After it was over, Harrison couldn’t tell you one thing the talk was about. That was an impressive feat for a man with perfect recall. He’d spent the first half of the lecture agonising over the fact that he hadn’t questioned Jesse rigorously enough about the activities they had planned for tomorrow and the next day. He had to spend a lot of mental energy trying not to pick up his phone and call her again right then and there.

At some point, however, worrying about Jesse’s tomorrow had transformed into thinking about how he was going to spend his own day tomorrow. Specifically, whether or not Lionel was going to approach him again, or if Harrison was going to try to approach Lionel. He didn’t want to be dedicating any thought to the prospect, but he couldn’t help it. He could go for years without even thinking about the man but as soon as he saw him again, he instantly turned back into that entry-level engineer with a need to prove himself, speaking up to the boss, much to the horror of his workmates.

Harrison had been lucky, or not, depending on who you asked, that something about him had interested Lionel. Whether it had been his mind, his attitude, or the way he looked bending over a workstation, welding, Harrison didn’t know. Frankly any option was equally as likely for Lionel, but for the sake of Harrison’s pride he hoped it was either of the former choices, despite the activities that had gone on between them in the past pointing to the latter.

Most people who talked back to Lionel were fired on the spot, but every so often there was one that he chose to listen to. One person in a hundred he would allow to tell him he was wrong to his face, with nothing more than a heated argument or a chilling glare as retribution. It wasn’t a surprise then, that those chosen few had a good deal more patience with him than the average onlooker, there was nothing to galvanise someone’s allegiance like special treatment.

These musings about Lionel were not helped by the fact that in between lectures, Lionel walked past him and Christina. He passed by them at a distance of about four feet, and there were hardly any mingling guests so it wasn’t unreasonable for Harrison to assume Lionel had seen him. If he did, Lionel made no show of it, keeping his gaze ahead and almost deliberately not making eye contact with Harrison. Or maybe Harrison was just tricking himself into thinking any of this had any meaning at all.

During the next lecture Harrison had a notebook in front of him the whole time, but he didn’t write a word. He was still occupied with his own questions. He wouldn’t admit it to Christina, but he did want to know why Lionel was back now. Was it a coincidence, or had he come because Harrison was giving the keynote? If he had, then why did he show up when the speech was almost over, and make a spectacle of himself at the same time? Then again, if Lionel had ever walked into any room and not announced his presence, it was news to Harrison.

The same questions kept turning over in his mind as he and Christina went to a late lunch at the restaurant attached to the hotel bar. It was almost impossible that he should stop thinking about Lionel now, considering that from where he was seated he had a perfect view of Lionel resting lightly against a stool, one arm leaning on the bar. He was talking to a pretty redheaded woman wearing a lanyard, and more importantly, a golden wedding band on her finger.

 Harrison rolled his eyes at his pasta. Lionel certainly wasn’t wasting any time. If there was one thing that could rival, or sometimes hamper, Lionel’s ruthless business sense, it was his libido. The man was incapable of keeping it in his pants, Harrison could attest.

“I don’t think you’ve heard a word I’ve said.” Christina declared, stopping her story to take a sip of her drink.

Harrison looked at her blankly, trying to conjure up any disconnected remnant of what she’d been talking about that may have been caught by his distracted brain. When he couldn’t find anything he shook his head apologetically. It was a testament to how well he regarded her that he considered a remorseful gesture at all. Harrison wasn’t in the habit of saying sorry.

“It’s not you. I’ve been- preoccupied.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Her tone was unenthusiastic, and Harrison didn’t need to follow her gaze to know she was looking at Lionel.

“He hasn’t looked over once.” She told him.

Harrison didn’t care. Of course he didn’t care. But she still didn’t have to rub it in. There was nothing worse than thinking too much about a person, other than knowing that person wasn’t thinking about you at all. Harrison had been told in the past that he had a problem with competition. He thought the people who told him that were probably making a big deal of nothing.  

“Well, he’s busy.” Harrison explained, idly twirling his spaghetti around his fork. “The redheads at this convention aren’t going to have illegitimate Luthor children all by themselves.”

“He’s getting to you.”

“He’s not- he’s not _getting_ to me. He can do whatever he wants.”

“What he wants is for you to obsess over him. He knows you’re obsessive.”

Harrison put down his fork, spaghetti uneaten, and pushed his plate away.

“I doubt it’s that melodramatic.” He shook his head. “You don’t know him, but this is the sort of thing he does all the time. Trust me, chatting up a married woman in a hotel bar is classic Luthor.”

Christina played with her napkin absent-mindedly.

“He’s trying to get you to notice him.”

“He doesn’t even know I’m here.”

Christina tore the napkin accidentally and threw the pieces down on the table in frustration.  

“You’re defending him again. As soon as I go in to criticise, you get your hackles up.”

“How am I defending him, I just told you he’s a lecherous bar crawler.”

“Oh, who doesn’t know that?”

Harrison was quiet a moment until the slight from her earlier comment caught up with him.

“And I’m not obsessive.” He told her indignantly.

She gave him a look that made Harrison relent a little.

“Alright, I am a little bit. But I’m not obsessing about this.”

Christina sighed. “You have a brilliant mind, Harry. You’re determined, and unique, and single-minded and usually that’s an unbelievably positive thing. But, sometimes all of those qualities conspire against you to make you fixate on things until you go insane.”

 “That doesn’t sound right.” Harrison said, despite the fact that it described him perfectly.

“Okay, so, don’t take this the wrong way,” Christina began, nervously.

“Oh I’m sure I won’t, now that you’ve said that. All good conversations start that way.”

She continued despite his interruption, “but you don’t have the healthiest way of relating to people.”

“I relate to people fine, they just have a hard time relating to me.”

A movement from Lionel caught Harrison’s eye again. He gestured for Christina to look.

“Watch this. In a second he’s going to stand up, reach his hand out to her and then get really close. He does it every time. He just thinks the proximity, or his height, or something about it is going to get them into bed. I don't know why he thinks that’s always going to work. I guess it does, though, at least often enough for him to keep using it.”

Sure enough, while they looked on, Lionel lifted himself lightly from his seat, his eyes locked on the woman in front of him. His fingers trailed along the wooden bar as he took the few steps over to her. He was saying something Harrison couldn’t have a hope to hear, but that he still tried to, nevertheless. Lionel towered over her, and slowly moved a hand from her shoulder to her elbow, guiding her upwards. She followed his touch, her eyes never leaving his as he invaded her personal space.

Talking softly, maintaining eye contact and getting very close. That was Lionel Luthor’s closer, and somehow it worked. Lionel led the woman out of the restaurant with one hand lightly resting on the small of her back. As he passed close to the table, Harrison imagined Lionel’s eyes flicked to his, and he could have sworn he saw a smirk touch his lips. Maybe the bastard was trying to get his attention after all.

He watched Lionel leave, and when he turned back to Christina she raised her eyebrows pointedly at him.

“What?”

“You are proving my point.”

Harrison shook a finger at her. “No I’m not, your point was that I can’t relate to other people like a human being. I was listening.”

“Alright, I wasn’t trying to say the situation was that dire. All I was saying was,” she paused, thinking. “Okay let me ask you this, how many people do you still keep in contact with from college?”

“I’m looking at her.”

“Right, and how many people from your office do you see outside of work, or even engage with on a personal, not professional level?”

Harrison didn’t meet her eyes, instead he crossed his arms and looked around the room. “I don’t.” He said, finally.

She leant forwards, her argument running at full steam.

“Can you name one person that you see on a regular basis that isn’t for work, and that you actually want to see?”

“Yes, actually.” His answer was smug.

“Your daughter doesn’t count.”

Harrison frowned.

“Then no.”

“You’re not the most social man in the world, Harry, that’s my point. What you are, however, is incredibly loyal.”

That took him aback. He wasn’t used to being accused of having positive traits, outside of his intelligence of course.

“I can’t count the number of times you’ve dropped everything to help me out, no matter the cost to yourself. It takes a lot for you to decide someone is worth your time, but once you do, you’re all in, whatever they need from you. I think maybe it’s because you’re so stubborn.”  

Harrison gave her a wry smile.

“I can cut people out of my life pretty easily, it’s one of my many admirable qualities.”

“Not everyone.” Her voice was serious. “Not someone you’ve given your loyalty to before. Lionel’s guilty of mistreating that privilege in the past, and I just don’t want to see him do it again.”

Harrison wiped his hands with his napkin and threw it on his plate.

“The only thing Lionel’s guilty of is being a manipulative narcissist. And also probably the many crimes he’s been accused of.”

Christina’s laugh was a mix of amusement and frustration.  

“It’s like you understand exactly why I don’t like him. You totally get why I think he’s a harmful influence and why you should be wary of him, but you just won’t act on it.”

That was the crux of Christina’s problem. How could he still involve himself with Lionel, when Lionel was such a bad person? It was difficult for a good person to understand why. That was why it mystified her that Harrison’s eyes were always drawn to Lionel, that he still cared about the battle of wills between them, and that he could look back on his days at LuthorCorp with gratitude and discontent in equal measure. But there were things Christina didn’t know, that she would never know.

She didn’t know, for example, that the last time Harrison had seen Lionel had only been a short while after Theresa had passed away. And because he’d been through the same thing himself, Lionel was one of the few people Harrison had let speak to him. Most people hadn’t been allowed to get in more than a few words about it. Harrison had shouted, and he’d cursed, and he’d vowed and promised and cried and threatened. But no matter how dark his sentiments had run, the lack of judgement from Lionel had been freeing.

That being said, he’d said and done a lot of things at the time that he regretted now. Most of them in Lionel’s presence, old habits die hard after all. So he was sure he hadn’t come off very well in Lionel’s eyes. Christina thought his past with Lionel was a lot further away than it was, and she didn’t know half the complexities of it.  

There was also the fact that Christina had a tendency to overlook Harrison’s own shortcomings, unless she needed something to lightly mock. There were things about him, that he knew were there, below the surface. A protective instinct, likely to go extremes, to aggression even. An ambition that considered the laws of government and the laws of physics as transient barriers to success. Or an understanding that most people, at their core, were ultimately a distraction to those few who were smart enough to make a difference. These were things that Christina wasn’t familiar with, that Harrison could see inside himself, and that Lionel Luthor knew intimately.

Still, what Christina was saying made sense. It was dangerous to get involved with Lionel, and he only hurt himself by dwelling on it. She was doing him a kindness, listening to him, counselling him, and she was right, probably right, that he should just leave things well enough alone.

“I can assure you, Christina, that despite my wilful agitation, you don’t have to worry. Lionel and I broke ties a long time ago, and no matter what he thinks, he doesn’t have any power over me.”

The funny thing, looking back on that statement later, was that he really thought he meant it. That mistaken belief was nowhere to be found that night when he looked up, and locked eyes with his reflection. How did he always end up here? That was all his brain could think to growl at itself as he gripped the sink with two white-knuckled hands. At the same time, Lionel dug his fingers into the skin at Harrison’s hips.

He looked a mess, in the mirror. His dishevelled tuxedo matched his unkempt hair, and his collar hung crookedly, shaking as he joined Lionel in a rough rhythm. He’d been wearing a tie, before. A bowtie. But he didn’t know why he’d bothered. As soon as Lionel had gotten his hands on it, it was done for. Lionel had wanted to get to his neck, and just like with everything else; if it was in Lionel’s way, it was gone. Harrison didn’t know where it was now. He hoped it was in the bathroom with them, not scattered on the dancefloor outside for anyone to find.

Harrison had to stop himself from crying out as Lionel pressed further into him. He clamped his mouth shut, breathing hard through his nose. Harrison wasn’t going to be the one to break, to get them caught. And it wasn't just because of how mortifying it would be to be found, but also because if there was anything Harrison hated, it was losing, and like everything else between them, this felt like a competition. He steadied his breathing, and focused on the mirror, his eyes travelling upward.

Examining Lionel’s reflection, he found a look of smug concentration on his face. Perhaps it was truly only concentration, but Lionel’s natural smugness suffused and intruded upon every other expression he had. Lionel’s tuxedo was immaculate, save for the slim jacket being open, and his sleek trousers pooled around his ankles, Harrison reflected with something resembling bitterness. He even had a tastefully patterned pocket square still tucked in at his breast. Harrison didn’t. Harrison couldn’t even remember if he’d been wearing a pocket square earlier. Did he even own a pocket square?

Lionel changed his angle, and the immediate effect sent Harrison’s knees buckling. To his mortification, a small whine escaped him, and because his eyes were still trained on the tableaux in front of him, he saw that the moment he did, Lionel’s mouth crooked into a smile. Harrison had no more doubts Christina had been right; Lionel had been trying to obsess him.

That was why he’d spent the day dangling himself just in reach of Harrison’s need to impress, but just shy of gratifying his ego. It was why, at the benefit dinner, Lionel had obviously pulled strings to be sat at a table that was directly opposite Harrison’s chair. It was why he’d used that position to flirt with a woman at Harrison’s table all night, only giving Harrison himself a polite but cursory nod. It was why he’d asked that redhead from the bar to dance, just as Harrison was ordering another glass of champagne.

Sure, he supposed everything that had happened could be put down to coincidence. But what if that was what Lionel wanted him to think? That subtle bastard. Harrison was fairly sure he had one solid piece of evidence at least. The fact that Lionel was still talking to the woman he’d been with at lunch, meant that they hadn’t slept together yet. Which in turn meant that it had been a performance for Harrison’s benefit. Harrison believed it, and what was more, he had to believe it, because the alternative was so much worse.

The alternative being that as he’d been brooding over Lionel, watching him flirt bitterly over his champagne, that Lionel hadn’t been giving him a second thought. Therefore, it was not only better, but necessary, to believe that Lionel had been playing him from the beginning. It must somehow have been Lionel’s Machiavellian machinations, coupled with the quantity of sparkling wine swirling in him, that had caused Harrison to wait until Christina had left the party, before he left his seat and stalked across the dancefloor. It had to be Lionel’s own devious manoeuvrings that had caused Harrison to accost Lionel the way he had, to push Lionel up against the wall, and then ultimately let himself be dragged by Lionel into the nearest empty room.

As much as Harrison hated being manipulated, it was preferable to the idea that his own emotions were getting the better of him. Harrison had put a lot of time and work into sharpening his mind into the formidable tool it was. He made decisions based on logic, based on reason, not on sentimentality, or anything else. Luckily it wasn’t usually a problem, considering Harrison wasn’t usually biased towards caring how his actions affected others. And the people he did care about were usually worth making reckless decisions over.

Christina had been right, earlier, when she said that there were a few people that for some reason, Harrison would give his everything for. But there were even fewer people Harrison would even look at twice when it came to, well, not exactly romance, but close. For a long time, and apparently still to this day, one of those very few, was Lionel goddamn Luthor. This was really unfortunate for Harrison, because as he knew very well, Lionel was an unscrupulous, self-absorbed, egotistical tyrant.  

Harrison closed his eyes as Lionel’s hand found the back of his head. At least sleeping with him was safer than doing business with him. As long as he was bent over the bathroom sink, trying to keep quiet, with Lionel railing him from behind, his company was safe from being talked into a merger, or some new unethical research practices.

As if he could read Harrison’s mind, Lionel bent forwards. His mouth was as near Harrison’s ear as he could get, and Harrison could tell he’d been drinking too.

 “I need to talk to you, in private.”

“I don’t think we can get much more private.” Harrison panted back.

Lionel grit his teeth. “Not now, tomorrow. We have business to discuss.”

Lionel leant against him, putting his weight on Harrison as he whispered. Harrison clutched harder at the sink, trying to keep his balance. As soon as Lionel's ominous pronouncement was over, he dropped his mouth to Harrison’s neck and reached his hand around to Harrison’s cock. Harrison’s mind went almost blank as the familiar hand stroked him roughly. It wasn’t long before a cry came from the bathroom with the out of order sign on its door, loud enough for whomever was outside to hear.

Harrison could only hope that the party had dwindled out by now, and that the stragglers were either too tired or too drunk to care. Lionel of course, had no compunctions about zipping himself up and breezing back into the party as if nothing had happened. Harrison wasn’t taking that chance. He waited there for who knows how long, getting himself back together, and listening at the door.

When he exited, he made a show of looking around and spying the out of order sign, seemingly for the first time. He reacted with surprise, yet understanding, as if he’d just entered the bathroom by mistake, and been confused as to why it was empty. From what he could tell, no-one was paying attention to his charade. Nevertheless, he kept up the act of drunken confusion and fatigue until he once again reached his room. It wasn’t all that difficult, all things considered.

 


	2. A Precarious Game

 

The presenter’s microphone let out another squeal of feedback, sending a spike of pain straight through Harrison’s already pounding head. He winced and shifted in his seat, thinking maybe if he angled himself just right he wouldn’t be in agony anymore. It didn’t work. The speaker, whose name Harrison had yet to learn, fumbled with the equipment; he was trying in vain to reposition the microphone, but in doing so merely sent another wave of auditory torture echoing around the lecture hall.

Harrison hadn’t felt this hungover in a long time. The several cups of coffee he’d downed that morning had done nothing to alleviate the cotton wool masking his senses. If anything, they had just made the nausea in his stomach worse. Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t dying for another one. Trying to keep his mind in the room, Harrison used his pen to scratch out a pattern on the corner of his page, careful to keep the notebook angled away from the people sitting next to him. It may damage his reputation should his neighbours realise that the only notes he’d taken on the seminar were the words _this better be over soon,_ repeated ad nauseum.

Finally, the presenter stepped away from the podium, gesturing helplessly for someone in charge to come help him speak without injuring the eardrums of his entire audience. As soon as the lecture was paused, a hushed conversation struck up behind Harrison. He paid it no mind, instead preferring to continue building the scribble descending down the edge of his notebook. This lecture was a losing battle, he thought. The way his head was at the moment, there was very little chance he was going to follow the rest of the speech any more than he had the beginning of it. At that moment, nothing would have pleased Harrison more than getting up and walking right out of the room. But as he had been reminded countless times by people far more courteous than himself, it wouldn’t do to have the CEO of S.T.A.R Labs and this conference’s keynote speaker walk out in the middle of a presentation. Like it or not, more was riding on Harrison’s shoulders than just his pounding head. His presence had consequences, and he was going to have to abide by them.

He only wished Christina were there to remind him to look like he was paying attention every now and then. She might even have been able to clue him in on what the lecture was about. But alas, she was busy babysitting their pet project. A joint venture between Mercury and S.T.A.R Labs, their collaboration was sure to make an impact on the trade floor. If they could ever actually get it there. It turned out, improbably, that a hotel’s function rooms were for some reason, different to the specifications of a professional laboratory. So the two embattled project leaders had been trading off dealing with the multitude issues as they arose. Or at least, that was what they’d agreed. The way it usually ended up was with Christina having to physically push Harrison out of the room when it was her responsibility to take charge. It turned out that Harrison had a tiny problem with letting other people take the lead.   

He was certainly regretting giving in to her now. As much grief as their project was causing them, Harrison wish he’d stuck his ground that morning and made Christina go to the lecture instead. At least if he were surrounded by his colleagues he could leave and get some coffee without causing a stir. Harrison grimaced. The worst thing about making yourself the face of your company was having to actually think about how you came across to other people. He wasn’t supposed to be rude, for one thing. It was ridiculous, Harrison had been rude all his life but it had only become a problem in the last ten or so years. Well, it had only become a problem for him in the last ten years; others would probably contend that it had been a problem for them long before that. Harrison wasn’t particularly interested in their opinion on the matter.  

Lionel had the right of it, Harrison grumbled to himself as he flipped over to a clean page, starting a pattern in the corner again. If you crafted your persona to be too powerful to be approachable, you got come and go whenever you pleased; being impolite was expected, rather than reprimanded. A needling sense of embarrassment pricked at his chest with the thought of Lionel. Harrison did his best to ignore it, and he might have succeeded had the word ‘Luthor’ not been spoken so close to his ear that it caused him to drop his pen. Scrambling to pick it up, Harrison forced himself to look indifferent. It was a coincidence of course, no-one could tell what had just been going through his mind. He tightened his grip on his pen, no-one had better be able to tell what was going through his mind. He didn’t think anyone would find much to enjoy about the content of his thoughts.

Harrison tried to look nonchalant as he settled back into his seat. The conversation behind him had become emboldened by the lecturer’s continued absence. It had moved from hushed tones to barely concealed whispers. One particularly strident voice was seated directly behind Harrison.

“He’s headhunting, I’m telling you.” It insisted.

Another voice piped up from down the row. “He’s not, he has people for that.”

There was a murmuring of responses to the reply that Harrison couldn’t quite make out. He hated that he’d reacted so quickly to hearing Lionel’s name. Considering recent events, he probably shouldn’t be surprised, but it was still frustrating to think he couldn’t keep a hold on his own mind. That morning, the only thing that had been weighing heavier on his hungover head than his doomed trade show, were Lionel’s words from the night before.

_We have business to discuss._

That was what he had told Harrison. Those five words held more promise and danger than anything anyone else at this conference could have dreamed of saying to him. Harrison had no idea what to expect, he only knew he should be on his guard. The voices behind him were getting louder.

“Why else would he be at the convention?” The strident voice was asking the others. “He’s not trying to learn about mollusc migration comparisons in the antipodes, that’s for sure.”

Harrison frowned, was that the lecture he had walked into? He angled his head to peer at his neighbour’s program but the lady beside him shifted her arm, obscuring his view. In Harrison’s already tense mood that was tantamount to a personal attack. Luckily for her, he was too busy eavesdropping.

“Look, I’m not saying he should be here.” The voice protested, to a wave of concerned mutters. “I don’t think he has any right to poach legitimate scientists for his Ponzi scheme. I’m just saying that that is what he’s doing.”

“He shouldn’t be.” Muffled agreements followed that proclamation.

“Exactly my point. The man’s a shill. The only thing he’s good for is stealing patents and crushing competition.”

Harrison rolled his eyes. There was nothing new under the sun; wherever Lionel Luthor went, accusations of rampant corporate corruption followed. Harrison wasn’t stupid, he knew the type of man Lionel was. He knew that many allegations against him were completely true, so he wasn’t about to completely defend him. Yet he still couldn’t help taking these complaints with a grain of salt. People were all too ready to believe anything of Lionel, it barely took a whisper for the smallest rumour about him to gain ground to becoming common knowledge. No act was too preposterous, no principle too sacred, for the gossiping crowds to doubt that Lionel was certainly guilty. There had been prattle that LuthorCorp was working against scientific progress since before Harrison had worked there.

“Are you saying that if he offered you a job, you wouldn’t take it?” A sly voice asked.

Harrison had the same question. Say what you liked about Lionel’s business practices, but there was a reason he was at the top. When LuthorCorp came knocking, nobody said no. Again, Harrison was brought back to what Lionel had said to him yesterday. Suddenly that assertion didn't bode so well.

“I’m not saying I’d say no to some of those Luthor dollars.” The strident voice was defensive now as it answered a round of hushed laughter. Harrison smirked. “I’m saying that the only ethical thing to do would be to say no.”

The lecturer was heading back to the podium now, and the conversation behind him sped up as they hurried to finish their thoughts.

“The man’s barely a scientist, he has no place being here. He’s a corporation, and all he’s looking to do is make a quick buck at the expense of everyone else.”

The lecturer cleared his throat into the microphone. He looked beyond relieved that there was no squeal of feedback this time. One more quiet whisper behind Harrison raced to throw itself into the conversation before its impending interruption.

“Did you hear his daughter disowned him? I heard from a friend at the Planet that she was going to whistle blow his whole operation but she got hushed up. Three guesses who’s responsible for that.”

When the tedious oration began once more, Harrison listened just enough to determine that it was indeed about molluscs after all. After that he quickly tuned out and frowned down at the scribbles he was passing off as notes. The gall of these people. It was one thing to criticise a man’s business and quite another to gossip about his daughter. Harrison felt a surge of indignation on Lionel’s behalf that they would bring Lutessa into it. He knew for himself, that he wouldn’t care what they accused him of, so long as they didn’t say a word about Jesse.

There was an unwelcome struggle brewing inside Harrison. Lionel’s methods weren’t something you could condone, and his convictions had often led to reckless behaviours. His obsessions were many, and sometimes clouded his judgment as he swore employees to secrecy and trampled over ethics legislation. Yet Harrison had never been able to stop himself from admiring Lionel’s passion. Nor could he bring himself to find fault with his dedication to seeing his theories through. And in addition to the respect he’d always held for the man (sometimes with great reluctance) Harrison also knew that everything public opinion had decided of Lionel, one day they were going to say it about him.

He may not admit it to anyone else, but when his real projects were underway, Harrison was sure he would have his share of the gossip. One day he was going to be the reckless madman they would counsel each other not to work with. He was going to be the spectre of rule-breaking corporate ambition they would whisper about in lecture halls. Already, almost every criticism he heard hurled at Lionel, was something that a small contingent of critics were whispering about Harrison.

His detractors, of which there were more than he’d care to admit, had labelled him a sell-out. And sure, right now it was insulting complaints about his corporatism and suggestions that he prioritised profit over progress, but there were harsher reproaches on the horizon. Harrison was a difficult man to interact with at the best of times, Christina had said as much yesterday, and there was only so long that he could keep up the veneer of affability.

On the pull-down projection screen, the mollusc man had brought up a series of slides that Harrison stared at without seeing. He didn’t even realise he’d been looking at the first one until it flicked over to a new image. A picture of a large snail appeared on screen to a generous chorus of gasps that Harrison had no hope of understanding. He shook his head, he would have to learn about invertebrates another day. 

If Harrison cared what people thought of him, it might make him angry to be called a shill. After all, it was a ridiculous accusation. He made innovations that could be shared with the public. His work was for the immediate and shared benefit of the community. And what the hell did these people do? Critics could talk about the commercialisation of his laboratories all they wanted, but they didn’t understand. Not how the market works, and not how people work.

Harrison did his work for himself, first and foremost. His goal was always to investigate the mysteries that he needed desperately to understand, to reach boundaries that had yet to be discovered let alone broken. But it was the public that spurred on his ingenuity. The public was always after something new and they weren’t afraid of telling you when you weren’t giving it to them. The push was always there to innovate, to expand, to develop things that other people never even thought to think of. Competition was Harrison’s lifeblood. He lived on it, thrived on it, needed it to push him and his team to ever loftier ambitions.

Of course, the profit didn’t hurt either. Harrison hadn’t been coy when he’d told Lionel he wasn’t in it for the money, but it did certainly make a difference when it came to running his experiments. Harrison had a level of independence and opportunity in his work that other people could only dream of. And Lionel could be offering more. Not the independence obviously, Lionel never came without strings attached, but the resources. LuthorCorp was if nothing else, incredibly well-financed, and they were also far more ready than others to back projects that didn’t exactly meet mainstream muster.

Perhaps that was the only way of keeping his narrative within his control, Harrison mused. If he already knew he was going to be labelled a reckless hack in the future, why not lead his descent himself? Maybe joining forces with Lionel Luthor now would only give him an advantage on a path he was already heading down.

Harrison was still absorbed in thought when the lecture ended. A sudden round of applause jolted him out of his reverie and for a moment Harrison wondered whether they were simply admiring a particularly spectacular invertebrate. He practically leapt to his feet as soon as he saw the people around him gathering their belongings to leave. Racing out of the hall, he barely avoided knocking into the other conference attendees crowding the aisles as he hurried off for his fourth caffeine hit of the day.

His deliberations were so complex, his mind still so clouded, that he almost didn't catch sight of Lionel at the far end of the café. Almost. The LuthorCorp CEO was seated in a well-upholstered armchair next to a window. Across from him was a man Harrison didn’t know, and on the low table between the two was an elegant chessboard. One of Lionel’s legs was crossed over the other and his elbow was perched on the chair’s arm, his hand was at his chin as he looked pensively outside. Harrison’s stomach swooped as Lionel’s finger trailed over his lips, perhaps thoughtful about his next move.

Quickly, Harrison averted his gaze, trying not to think about where those hands had been. He ordered his coffee, cursing his carelessness for accidentally talking himself around to Lionel’s perspective during the lecture. That would definitely play to Lionel’s advantage, and Harrison didn’t need to be doing the man’s work for him. That wasn’t his job anymore. He had to get it together and be careful, Harrison warned himself. Whether he was of a mind to heed that warning was yet to be decided.

Inevitably Harrison’s gaze was drawn to the other end of the room once again. As he watched, Lionel casually (as casual as man like that was capable of being) regarded the room and caught Harrison’s eye. He didn’t display the faintest hint of surprise at Harrison’s presence. The only word to describe Lionel’s posture and expression, was expectant. As they considered each other, all Harrison could think about was watching Lionel’s reflection in the mirror the night before. So it was more than a relief when Lionel broke eye contact to speak to the man opposite him. After a few brief words the man stood and left the café, passing Harrison with a sullen expression that Harrison didn’t feel the need to dignify.

As Harrison stood by the counter, waiting for his coffee, he had time to observe Lionel as he took his time to put the chess pieces in order. Lionel’s dark blazer was resting over the arm of his chair, but his long coat was nowhere to be seen. From those indications, Harrison gathered that Lionel wasn’t planning on going outside today. And that he’d already been sitting in the café for long enough that the heated air had made it uncomfortable to continue wearing his jacket. That was interesting.

Lionel’s fingers deftly plucked piece after piece from around the board, arranging them neatly and taking care to make sure they were all facing the right direction. Again, Harrison had to stop his eyes from travelling over Lionel’s hands. Instead, he made himself concentrate on the purple hue of Lionel’s waistcoat and how it contrasted against his iron grey shirt. His dark tie matched his trousers, except for the subtle silver spirals that shimmered on the tie’s material.

Harrison started when he heard his name. From the look on the barista’s face, it wasn’t the first time she’d called it. In a rare moment of self-awareness, Harrison wished that Christina were there with him. She was possibly the only person who had a hope of talking him around, of convincing him not to go sit down with Lionel right now. Lionel expected Harrison to join him, and Harrison needed someone to tell him not to, since he sure as hell wasn’t going to talk sense into himself.

That was because there was more driving him towards Lionel’s table than just some long-established need to impress. There was an idea, that spark in the back of his mind that had begun when Lionel had burst into his keynote speech and had only continued to grow since then. He couldn’t put too many words to it, or consider it too earnestly when it could so easily burn out, but if by chance Harrison could play this situation well enough, it might be to the benefit of them both. Harrison didn’t know what Lionel was planning, seldom few ever did. But he knew that for his own work, a partner with connections like Lionel’s could go a long way, and there weren’t a lot of investors as open-minded as he was.

He kept that notion in mind as he took the seat opposite Lionel’s without ceremony. Lionel was always thinking about the long game, and if he didn’t want to be completely out of his depth, Harrison had to as well. His knee knocked against the table, toppling a couple of pieces and earning him a reproving frown. Harrison didn’t apologise. Lionel obviously felt no need to rush as he took his time putting the pieces right again. When he finished, Lionel placed his fingers in the middle of the board and smoothly rotated it until the white pieces sat in front of Harrison. That unnecessary flourish made Harrison grimace as he took the lid off his coffee cup.

Lionel could just have easily arranged the pieces like that to begin with, Harrison grumbled to himself, blowing impatiently on his drink to cool it. The only reason he hadn’t done it that way was because Lionel wanted it to seem like he was doing Harrison a favour by letting him make the first move. Except that it wasn’t the first move, not truly. Lionel had been making moves since he’d arrived, and inviting Harrison to play first was only the latest.

Sometimes people called Harrison paranoid. He told them they only thought that because they’d never worked for Lionel Luthor.

He surveyed the two rows of pieces lined up neatly before him. Playing first wasn’t likely to help Harrison very much. It wasn’t that he was bad at chess, far from it in fact, but it had never really been his game and Lionel had never been shy about rubbing that in. For a long time Harrison had been convinced that Lionel had kept his winning streak through cheating, and that conviction still hadn’t worn off yet. He was sure Lionel had a system in place, he just wasn’t sure what it was, nor could he prove it existed. What he did know was that Lionel wouldn’t consider winning by underhanded methods any less of a win than if it had been done honestly. Win by any means. No Mercy. That was how Lionel Luthor worked. Not unlike Harrison himself. In his worst moments that was, or at least that was what he told himself.

Harrison moved a pawn forward, trying to convey in that gesture how little he cared about the outcome of the game. If he was going to lose, he was going to do it with as much unsportsmanlike disaffection as possible. The very least Harrison could do was strip Lionel of the satisfaction of a meaningful victory. As soon as Harrison made his move, Lionel gave the board a cunning smile. It was surely for show, to prove that everything Harrison did was playing right into his hands. Typical. Next time, Harrison thought to himself, he should be the one setting up the game. Harrison would like to see Lionel just try to go up against him in Settlers of Catan. Never defeated, never would be. Lionel could only ever _hope_ to deprive Harrison of his coveted Catan titles.

“Have you been camped out here all morning?” Harrison asked, breaking the silence. Lionel must have been biting his tongue to hold out on having the first word. It was even a bit impressive, considering how much of a struggle it usually was to get him to shut up.

There was an obvious subtext to Harrison’s question and its meaning was clear. When he asked if Lionel had been camped out in the café, he’d meant have you been camped out _waiting for me_?  

“I’ve had business here and there.” Lionel shook his head, but Harrison had a feeling his instinct wasn’t too far off. The corner of Lionel’s mouth quirked as he finally leant forward and moved a pawn of his own. Harrison immediately moved his bishop out onto the field, putting the onus back on Lionel.

“Enigmatic as ever.” He marvelled.

“A man can be judged only by the image he presents.” Lionel answered, enigmatically. He leant back in his chair, and spread his hands wide; the picture of innocence if it weren’t for his devilish stare.

“Funny,” Harrison took a sip of coffee, playing into Lionel’s undertoned game, “I’ve heard a man can be judged by the company he keeps.”

“Then you’re very welcome for keeping mine.” Lionel moved a piece on the board and sat back again.

“I’m not sure how many would agree with that.” Harrison nodded at the people milling about them, but Lionel’s eyes didn’t follow the movement; they were trained on Harrison.

“Whether they do or not, is no concern of mine.”

Harrison smirked into his coffee. “Well it’s no wonder you’re so popular.”

“My sentiments exactly. Though populism,” Lionel stretched the word on his tongue, “doesn’t quite suit me.”

“Right, who cares what the little people think?” Harrison threw out derisively.  

That was too much for Lionel. He made a scornful noise and broke out in a wide smile. With that, some of the tension lifted and Harrison found himself sitting a little easier. Lionel’s moods were mercurial, and it was never easy to tell where you sat with him. His smiles hid a multitude of sins, but his sincerity was dangerous. It also seemed as if neither of them were going to mention what happened last night, which suited Harrison perfectly.

Lionel tapped a knight with his finger as he considered his next move.

“Coming from you Harrison, that sentiment is especially galling. I may have my share of detractors, as you so subtly implied, but I’m not sure I’ve ever heard the word aloof ascribed to one man as much as I have to you.”

That said a lot about who Lionel had been talking to. Harrison was at his most unapproachable when it came to flatterers and fools. He allowed himself a moment to consider that, and to allow the incongruity of being called by his first name to pass. Harrison had known Lionel for a long time; they’d been colleagues for years, and contemporaries for more. Yet it had been so long since he’d sat down and talked to Lionel that when he spoke Harrison’s name it was at once familiar, and strange. Clearly Lionel had been his boss for too long because when he referred to Harrison as something other than Dr Wells, somewhere in the back of Harrison’s mind it still seemed like a breach of professionality. And somewhere deep inside, it still sent the same thrill of illicit familiarity through him.

“I’m assuming I broke your record?” Harrison retorted, hoping he’d not paused too long.

Lionel huffed a laugh of agreement. “I’ll have to work harder, it seems.”

Harrison wondered if he should ask why Lionel wanted to meet him. Was this the time to ask, or was Lionel was expecting that? Perhaps cutting to the heart of the matter might catch Lionel off guard, or earn him some respect for not being timid about it. No, that wasn’t right. Harrison moved another piece. That wasn’t Lionel’s style, he was too Machiavellian to appreciate such a blunt approach. Harrison’s jaw tightened involuntarily. He was being drawn right back into Lionel’s orbit, navigating the ebb and flow of his temperament just like everyone else.

Fortunately, Lionel spared him any further concern over his dilemma. He took Harrison’s pawn as he spoke again.

 “You’re doing well for yourself, Dr Wells.” Lionel mused.

Harrison gave a slight nod to acknowledge the compliment, sipping his coffee. He watched Lionel over the rim of his cup and waited for him to continue. Lionel’s fingers beat a rhythm on the arm of his chair, but he seemed mostly amused by Harrison’s silence.

“It’s vindicating to see a person with talent use it so effectively.” He elaborated, eventually.  

“Talent only gets you so far.” Harrison answered.

“Further than most.” Was Lionel’s immediate reply, and something in his manner changed almost imperceptibly. “Don’t make the mistake of taking that advantage for merit. Your mind gave you a head start that others weren’t so lucky to receive.”

Harrison rolled his eyes. There it was. Lionel “gaslight” Luthor could only praise you so far before he had to take you down a peg again.

“Sure, let’s pretend you care about being fair to everyone.” Harrison growled, forgetting to keep his voice level. Lionel raised an eyebrow.

“Now where did I say that?”

Harrison ground his teeth. “I guess I must have misunderstood your attempt to humble me.”

“There’s no need to work yourself up.” Lionel sighed.

Oh, the man was good, no question. What choice did Harrison have after that? If he called Lionel out further, he would only be proving Lionel right that he had been worked up in the first place. If he didn’t, Lionel would think he’d won the round. It amazed Harrison that he could practically write a textbook on Lionel tricks, and yet somehow they still worked.

“Believe me, I had no intention of insulting you.” Lionel clarified in an attempt to placate the conversation. “I simply meant that it is satisfying to see someone deserving succeed. Too often, people are simply handed the reins to their success, rather than earning it.”

“And some people succeed even with a hand tied behind their back.”

Harrison hated himself for how petulant he sounded. He hadn’t even meant to say it, it had come crashing out of his mouth before he could stop it. The lines around Lionel’s eyes creased as he grinned. He was unsettling attractive, even as he condescended to Harrison.

“Is that what I did to you Harrison, leashed your potential?” Lionel was still enjoying himself. “Pray tell, what was it that I did? Clip your wings? Keep my hand on the top of your head to prevent you from flying?”

He rested a finger on his lips as he waited, amused, for Harrison’s answer. Harrison decided he wouldn’t point out that there had been times in their acquaintance when Lionel’s hand had literally been pushing Harrison’s head downwards. That was only likely to gratify Lionel and make Harrison uncomfortable.

He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to answer here, what Lionel expected him to say. It wasn’t as if the both of them weren’t aware of the game Lionel had played with him. Despite his obvious aptitude and talent, Harrison’s rise at LuthorCorp had been excruciatingly slow. Every time a leadership position arose, Harrison made his case, at first tentative, but quickly becoming demanding; the more Lionel denied him, the angrier Harrison got.

Harrison made a non-committal gesture and took another sip of his coffee.

“Some might say so.”

Lionel’s expression was inscrutable. “Might you?”

“I would say that if that was your intention, you clearly didn’t do the job well enough.” Harrison gestured at the convention around them.

Lionel pretended to look confused for a moment before his eyes widened in understanding. “Oh- oh yes, the keynote. You are becoming quite the draw aren’t you? People are buying tickets just to listen to you speak.”

On the surface, Lionel’s tone sounded appropriately impressed, but it was layered with mockery. The insincerity of it annoyed Harrison. He wanted to ask if hearing the keynote was the reason Lionel had attended this year, but now he didn’t really know if he wanted the answer. Besides, he wasn’t interested in giving Lionel that satisfaction.

“I’ve had a few compliments on the speech.” Harrison wasn’t giving too much away, and he was keeping a tight lid on any further petulance.

Lionel’s eyebrows raised in a sarcastic congratulations that left a sour taste in Harrison’s mouth.

“A shame I didn’t get to hear it in its entirety, then.” Lionel moved his rook, drawing Harrison’s attention back to the game. If Lionel had been trying to distract him, he’d definitely succeeded in that. Harrison hadn’t paid attention to the last few moves at all, let alone thought about what he was going to do next. He considered his options as Lionel continued.  

“What I did catch was,” Lionel paused thoughtfully, “illuminating, to say the least.”

Harrison moved a rook down the length of the board, and knew before he looked up that Lionel’s eyes were on him. He touched his glasses, adjusting them a bit, but didn’t say anything. Lionel was going to have to explain himself if he wanted Harrison’s thoughts on whatever he was trying to say. Lionel studied Harrison’s response before he spoke again.

 “We have always been men cut from the same cloth, Harrison.” He bounced a knight over a row of pawns. “ _We are, none of us, bound to the rules that others have decided for u_ s. That could have been ripped directly from a pep talk I gave.”

Harrison snorted. “An ideological diatribe isn't a pep talk, no matter how motivating you think it is.”

“Oh I don’t know about that, they seem to have made their impression on you.”

Harrison bristled. He wasn’t going to deny that he’d learnt from Lionel, and that they had certain shared philosophies between them, but claiming that it was Lionel’s influence that had put him here was a bit rich. Harrison leant back against the chair, his heel tapping a restless beat on the floor. Lionel’s face gave nothing away.

“You’ve impressed me over the years. Of course, you were always a gifted mind, but as you have progressed, you’ve harnessed the things that made you weaker.” Lionel counted them off on his fingers. “Your anger. Your impatience. Your distaste for restrictions. Your unwillingness to cede control. You’ve managed to turn these flaws into the central tenets of your career.”  

He might just have easily been talking about himself, Harrison thought. Lionel perched himself on the edge of his seat, wrists on his knees as he continued.

“I can use you, Harrison.”

Harrison couldn’t help a smile. “When have you not?”

“Don’t play the wounded hart with me.” It was reprimand, but there was more than a hint of amusement to it. Thankfully, this time the joke didn’t seem to be on Harrison, so much as it was with him. He couldn't help it, he was curious about what Lionel was getting at and Lionel could sense it.

“ _There are more things in Heaven and earth, Harrison, than are dreamt of in our philosophy._ ” He quoted, mysteriously.

Oh, Harrison had not missed that. He rolled his eyes.

“And _where we’re going we don’t need roads?_ ” He ventured in return, using the same conspiratorial tone that Lionel had.

Lionel looked at him blankly. “I beg your pardon?”

“Oh sorry, I thought we were getting melodramatic.” Harrison’s innocence was hardly convincing. “Carry on, I think you were about to tell me about how you want to go _to infinity and beyond_?”

Lionel sighed.

“I’ll assume that’s some adroit pop cultural reference. I trust you remember how tiresome that is to me.

Harrison could have laughed. That, coming from the man who found a way to wedge his extensive reading list into every conversation, relevant or not.

“Alright then, why don’t you tell me what it is you want. _Brevity is the soul of wit_ after all.” Harrison’s phone rang. As he dug it out of his pocket, he nodded at Lionel. “See, I can do Shakespeare too.”

He pressed the call button on his cell and was immediately greeted by several voices speaking over each other. Before long he made out what he had suspected as soon as he picked up the phone, something was wrong with their trade show project. Harrison sighed, dragging a tired hand over his face. Telling them he would be there right away, he hung up the call with a snap and looked at the chess board.

“Sorry,” he told Lionel, “looks like we don’t have a winner this time.”

Lionel didn’t look troubled. “I would have won in four.” He told Harrison confidently.

Standing to leave, Harrison narrowed his eyes and moved his bishop. Without hesitation, Lionel moved another pawn. Harrison took it and Lionel immediately took his in return. Harrison saw an opening and moved his knight to put Lionel’s king in check. Lionel drew his queen over the board and took the knight, at the same time putting it in a direct line to Harrison’s king. Harrison went to move the piece, but he couldn’t. Lionel had been careful not to move in too close, knowing Harrison played a very aggressive king, but nevertheless, Harrison’s king was trapped in every direction by a series of pieces Lionel had built up around him.

“My mistake.” Lionel apologised as he looked up at Harrison with the world’s smuggest expression, “Three.”

Harrison spun on his heel and left the room without another word. He took a little satisfaction in leaving Lionel’s company for something more important. Lionel would hate that.

Harrison quickly found himself at the door of the second floor conference room S.T.A.R Labs had rented for the weekend. A glass wall ran along the near side of the room, so Harrison could easily see the horde of anxious people buzzing around inside before he entered. As soon as the door swung open, Christina made an exhausted beeline for him. Her blonde hair was tied up, but the ponytail was starting to come loose, wild strands of hair fell chaotically around her face.

“The grid just won’t hold.” She greeted him, without ceremony. “We’ve tried it under all the same conditions we had in the lab and the beams just aren’t getting anywhere near the sort of power we need. I stuck my hand right in it and nothing, not even a sunburn.”

Harrison stared at her.

“You put your hand in it?” He asked, disbelievingly.

Christina waved off his alarm. “It’s been a long day. We need to get this fixed before tonight.”

She tried to walk back into the thick of it but Harrison caught her by the shoulders. He made her look him in the eye.

“ _We_ are not going to do anything. I’m going to get this fixed and you’ll go… do whatever it is you need to do to get your head back on straight.”

This was one of the rare occurrences when being a famously stubborn bastard was genuinely useful. Christina tried to protest, but Harrison wouldn’t brook any answer but his own. Doing this for her was his version of Christina stopping him dumping four sugars in every coffee, the only difference being that his version was going to work. Christina had known him too long to believe that she could change his mind on this, but she still left under heavy duress. As soon as she was gone, Harrison took charge of the team. He began cycling through all of the troubleshooting protocols, but pretty quickly realised that they’d already done all this before. It hadn’t worked then either.

The equipment itself was a prototype security system meant for protecting high value items. The central piece was a grid network of high intensity and incredibly powerful beams rotated on a self-programming base. The only material the beams wouldn’t burn through was the outer frame that encased the whole production, and the inner frame that held the hypothetical object. In addition to that, the unsystematic and ever-changing grid pattern made it too unpredictable to be bypassed easily by thieves. On the trade floor they were meant to be showing off both the system’s complex algorithm and the unique treatment the frame had undergone.

However, just as Christina had described, these beams weren’t strong enough to so much as singe a single hair on his forearm. That was unlikely to give their system the intended impact with their audience. Not to mention it would be incredibly embarrassing.

Tensions ran high in the room. Harrison wasn’t immune to the rising frustrations. In fact, he may have been a leading factor in them. But it wasn’t his fault that he’d had to explain a hundred times that it wasn’t the math that was wrong. The Mercury Labs people were noticeably sceptical about his defence of his own mathematics, even as his S.T.A.R. Labs technicians backed him up. After the third calculator he’d thrown across the room (this one hard enough to leave a crack in the glass wall) he realised that this fight was getting them nowhere.

Taking off his glasses, Harrison rubbed his tired eyes with the back of his hand. With a few deep breaths to reduce his anger, or at least the outward expression of it, Harrison put his glasses back on and gathered the team together. One hand on his hip, Harrison thanked them for their tireless efforts and their dedication to seeing the project through but, he continued, they were free to go. Most of them had panels to attend anyway, and the rest of them had to prep their spot on the trade floor for when the system was transported. The team filed out looking glum and irritated. Harrison couldn’t blame them, he felt much the same way.

Not long after they’d left, Harrison heard a knock on the conference room’s glass door. He turned around and caught sight of his own haggard reflection, but beyond that a nervous looking hotel employee stood. Harrison opened the door and the messenger hesitated a moment at what Harrison assumed must have been his livid expression. The employee steeled his resolve and held out a package to Harrison.

“Uh, compliments of Mr Luthor.” The young man told him nervously.

Well that explained why he hadn’t turned tail and run, Lionel was hardly a more understanding charge than Harrison. He stared at the package suspiciously before he took it and sent the messenger away again, Lionel had no doubt already paid him off. Unwrapping the packaging, a wry smile found its way to Harrison’s face. It was a book, and inside the front cover was a message scrawled in scratchy handwriting.

_For next time._

_L.L._

The dedication was signed as if there could be any doubt as to who it was from. 30 Ways To Improve Your Chess Strategy was emblazoned across the jacket in heavy black lettering. It might have been impressive that Lionel had found such a specific item to mock him with so quickly, but at this point in their relationship, Harrison expected nothing less. He flipped through the pages dryly. Lionel was as gracious in victory as ever it seemed. It was a good thing Harrison wasn’t a sore loser then.

Giving himself a small reprieve from dealing with his current crisis, Harrison pulled out his phone. He flicked through the numbers rapidly, and hoped the one he found was still active.  

 _Thanks for the doorstop. It can gather dust with your books._ Harrison typed, leaning against a nearby desk. He hit send and was surprised to hear a response buzz back almost immediately. Lionel was good at playing it cool, but perhaps he really was more interested in Harrison than he’d let on. Interesting.

 _I earn royalties whether you read them or not_ was the reply.

Harrison couldn’t help a snort. _You’re very welcome then._

 _You could learn something from those volumes._ Again, Lionel’s message came too quickly.

Harrison had read Lionel’s first book. He’d quickly realised that he wasn’t its primary demographic, not being easily conned or interested in getting rich quick. Besides, knowing Lionel personally meant it was easy to see how little resemblance his commercial musings on business bore to the opinions he actually held. After all, why on earth would Lionel give his honest advice to people who could become his competition?

 _If I can get your pearls of wisdom from a book I don’t need to be talking to you do I?_ Harrison threw his phone down on the table as he went back to work. A message buzzed into his inbox but he didn’t read it. He could afford to let Lionel stew in silence, two can play at that hot and cold game Lionel liked so much. It had only been a day and a half since Lionel had re-entered his life, but Harrison was feeling the full effects of the whirlwind that followed in his wake.

He turned his attention back to his security system. He had other things to focus on, and his job description didn’t include hostile flirting with Lionel Luthor. Sleeping with him again would be a bad idea. Harrison wasn’t sure where that notion had even come from, and he chided himself for even thinking about it. Yet once he had, he found it difficult to concentrate on anything else. It was true, for one thing. It had been a bad idea to sleep with him the first time. He hadn’t been thinking clearly last night. Harrison shook his head to clear the image of Lionel’s reflection from his mind.  

Another Buzz.  

For Lionel, mixing business and sex was as easy as breathing; for Harrison, not so much. He didn’t like when those worlds overlapped. Personal relationships weren’t his strong suit at the best of times, and feelings were often beyond him. Complicating a business association by introducing anything else was guaranteed to disrupt his rhythm, and Lionel had already been too many things to Harrison. It was part of his process, he always did his best to get his claws into every facet of someone’s life. That was the thing about Lionel. He could be a cold bastard when he wanted, but when he had you in his grip there was no end to how needy he could be. It was a dangerous place to be for Harrison, who responded too well to being needed.

Lionel wanted something from Harrison, that was certain. But he wasn’t about to chase Harrison for it, so Harrison couldn’t let himself chase Lionel. But he couldn’t deny, there was something very satisfying about having Lionel on his string this time. Dealing with Lionel was a game. He couldn't let Lionel continue to stay a step ahead. However, at the same time, if Harrison made it too difficult, Lionel may decide he wasn’t worth the trouble. He might think he wasn’t keen, though even Harrison wasn’t sure if he was yet.

Despite his reservations, Harrison was interested in what Lionel wanted from him. The man had always had a bold ambition, and the weirdest obsessions, a combination that usually led to fascinating undertakings. It was also always worth him keeping in mind that Lionel could prove useful to him as well, when it came to the next stage of S.T.A.R. Labs development.  

Nearly an hour after Harrison had sent her away, Christina appeared in the doorway. Harrison picked himself up off the floor where he’d been carefully examining each of the individual wires in the system for faults. It was a gruelling job considering there were literally thousands of them. He looked gratefully at Christina as she entered.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Are you talking to me or the coffee?” She asked, grinning as she handed him one of the cups she was holding. They both knew the answer to that. Harrison took a sip, eyes closed and sighed. When he opened them, he looked at Christina, pretending to be surprised.

“Oh, when did you get here?”

She laughed and surveyed the debris Harrison had left in his wake.

“Any luck?” Christina asked. She looked a lot more relaxed than she had when Harrison had sent her away but despite that, there was still an undercurrent of anxiety to the way she asked the question.

Harrison shook his head, leaning against one of the room’s many desks. Christina joined him, hopping up onto the table next to him and letting her feet dangle over the floor. Harrison removed his glasses again and rubbed his eyes, this was not going well. He assessed the room, appreciating that the slight blur of his vision meant that he couldn’t witness the extent of their failure just then.

 “Maybe we just tell them it’s supposed to be like this.” He grumbled.  

Christina looked at him quizzically. “What, broken?”

Harrison nodded. “Yeah, we could spin it like it's a psychological trap. Like, if thieves just think that the beams are going to hurt them, they won’t even try to steal from you.”

“And what will we do about the research papers we already submitted when we registered it?” Christina threw at him.

“We’ll get rid of them. Come on, we can go together.” Harrison proposed, enjoying his facetious plot. “You distract the office and I’ll go in and burn the paperwork. I’ll get everyone’s so that way they won’t know who did it.”

“Brilliant. I don’t know how I didn't think of it. Although,” Christina pretended to consider something, “I do think they might have digital backups for those nowadays.”

Harrison clicked his fingers in sarcastic disappointment, then threw his head back in actual frustration. “It worked so well at the lab.”

“It did.” Christina agreed. She thought for a moment. “Maybe it’s the math.”

He whipped his head around to repeat himself for the hundredth time that it wasn’t his math, but he closed his mouth with a snap when he saw her grin.

“My staff informed me that you were very insistent that no-one continue to mention the math.”

“My algorithm isn’t wrong.” He growled.

“I never thought it was.” Christina groaned. “This is going to be embarrassing.”

“Yes it is. He’s never going to let me live this down.” Harrison really should have kept that last thought to himself. Christina rolled her eyes.

“You’re still obsessing about him?”

 “I don’t want to have this conversation again.”

“You were the one who brought him up.” Christina protested. She had him there, but Harrison wasn’t about to concede the point.  

As if on cue, his phone began to ring on the table between them. Harrison snatched it up quickly and hit decline without even looking at the number. He put the cell back in his pocket.

“I’m not obsessing.” He complained, frowning. “It’s just-. He knew me when I was starting out. I’d like to be a little more impressive now than I was then.”

 “I knew you when you were starting out too.” Christina reminded him. He snorted.

 “Yeah, but this is your failure as well.”

“Not if it’s your math.”

He shoved her with his shoulder. “It’s not the math.”

The drank their coffee in a silence for a while.

“You quit his company and started your own. You basically have a monopoly on licensing technical equipment to Central City businesses and the name on the banner this year sure as hell isn’t Lionel Luthor. You’re plenty impressive, even after everything he did to sabotage you.”

She just had to finish it that way, didn’t she? Harrison shook his head

“I’m not going to play the victim to Lionel Luthor’s big bad wolf.”

Christina made a disbelieving noise. “You were blacklisted from the industry.”

“That’s dramatic.”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me you don’t think you were. No-one would hire you!”

The desk rocked a little with the force of Harrison’s rise as he stood up again. He paced towards their project, keeping his eyes on it as if he were just about to see the one solution that would be the key to fixing everything.

“By the time I left LuthorCorp, I’d pretty much already insulted everyone important enough to hire me, half of them to their face.”

He walked around the frame, stopping in a spot Christina couldn’t see his face.

“Besides, even if it was true. That was the whole reason I started S.T.A.R. Labs as early as I did. If I hadn’t been passed over like I was I might be doing grunt work in the back of some mediocre lab right now.

“And you would have been fired so many times.” Christina added.

“Exactly,” he agreed, “it’s better that I had to strike out on my own.”

Kneeling down by the frame’s base again, Harrison went back to checking the wires. He kept his eyes on the multi-coloured cords as Christina let out a frustrated breath.  

“I don’t get it, Harry. How many promotions did he tease you with before you finally cut him out?”

Harrison swallowed. He’d been thinking something similar himself.

“A few.” He clipped some of the wires together to hold them back. “But don’t forget he did promote me plenty of times as well.”

“I watched him dangle reward after reward in front of you, making you jump for it. I will never understand how you can defend a man like him.”

She never would. If Lionel hadn’t done things the way he had, Harrison may never have grown angry enough to succeed. Lionel’s public approval of him, coupled with his refusal to promote him, had confused Harrison, made him indignant. It had spurred him to speak out louder, and often, earning him the style and reputation he held to this day. Harrison needed the stress, and the pressure, and even though he’d hated it at the time, he was amazed at how far being vindictive had got him.

He had been tossed constantly between praise and disparagement, occasionally stopping at indifference long enough to make Harrison crave Lionel’s attention any way he deigned to bestow it. It wasn’t nice, and Harrison may not like that it happened, but he understood it. It had made him stronger. To Lionel, all that was a secondary consequence. Over the years, Harrison had realised that the lesson he had thought important enough to instil in him, was that Lionel’s favouritism, though exhilarating, was no guarantee of anything.

Lionel wasn’t a good man, or a kind man. He was a smart man. He knew how to make people do things for him. Harrison still wasn’t sure whether he really believed Lionel had blacklisted him all those years ago. He didn’t doubt he had the power to. It was very possible that Lionel had put in a word to industry titans, telling them not to offer him a position. But if his goal had been to make Harrison turn tail back to LuthorCorp, then he didn’t understand Harrison as well as he thought he did. It didn’t matter how bad his job prospects had been, he knew better than to show a weakness like that in front of a Luthor.

In a way it gave him confidence, Harrison had already undermined Lionel’s wishes once, he could always do it again. He only realised how long he’d been silent when Christina came up to him and touched him lightly on the shoulder.

“You can’t keep dwelling on him. He’s not worth it. He’s barely said five sentences to you since he’s been here.”

Harrison struggled to control his expression as he pushed down the memory of the night before. This was not the time to be thinking about Lionel’s lips on his skin, or Lionel’s hands digging into hips, or…

He coughed. “Yeah, you’re right.” He managed to choke out the sentence.

“Admitting someone else is right? That’s a first.”

 “Don’t get used to it.”

Christina wound her arm around Harrison’s waist and he rested his across her shoulders. They looked at their project together unhappily. Christina squeezed him tighter for a second, then stepped away.

 “Alright, I’m going to go to the panel and field questions about how it’s supposed to work. Maybe we’ll just pretend it’s a big surprise that it’s broken when we try to show it.”  

Harrison chuckled.

“Sounds like a plan. Let’s just throw theory at them and hope it sticks.”          

Christina smiled tiredly and walked out of the room, leaving Harrison alone once again. He walked around to the back of the frame, resting his forehead against the cool sheet of metal. From back here he couldn’t be seen through the glass wall, though it barely mattered, the floor was almost deserted by this point anyway. It had been so close to working. It had worked perfectly back at the lab.

Harrison kicked the frame in frustration and regretted it immediately. He braced himself on one leg as he grabbed his sore foot and swore, practically hopping in place. If they could just get it to the power level they needed he wouldn’t have to injure himself physically attacking the equipment. Harrison froze. His gaze was trained on the cords leading from the frame to the generator on the far side of the room. Its lights were on, it was humming, and it hadn’t seemed out of place when they’d been troubleshooting.

Running his hands over the generator, Harrison flicked a couple of switches. The light turned on and off with the switch, but there wasn’t a change in the hum. In a second he’d realised what had happened. Something had gone wrong inside the generator, making it put out only a base level of power, but whatever it was had left the lights on, meaning that it looked like nothing was faulty. When the generator wasn’t providing power, the frame was supposed to use its internal back-up, but because just a little bit of juice had been making its way through the line, the failsafe hadn’t kicked in. Harrison could have yelled in relief and frustration.

He’d spent so long on useless solutions, but at least now he knew the problem was mechanical. This was something he could fix. He dragged the nearby toolkit over to the generator and got to his knees. Immediately he set about unscrewing the panels to get to the internal machinery. Behind him, the door opened again.

Harrison laughed. “You are gonna kiss me when I tell you what I’ve just found.”

The silence lasted a little too long after Harrison spoke. Just enough for Harrison to sense something was off.

“I’m not going to pretend I’ve never been greeted that way. However, that isn’t the sort of reaction I’m used to receiving when I enter a room.” A deep voice told him.

Harrison didn’t need to look to see who it was, but he did anyway. Lionel was standing in the doorway, still missing his jacket. He looked too relaxed. It was always worth being wary when Lionel seemed so calm. Harrison went back to his work.

“Do I not get to hear what it is you’ve just found?” Lionel asked.

“It won’t mean much to you.” Harrison told the generator. “I’m just fixing an issue that’s been giving us trouble.”

 “Ah.” Lionel made an understanding noise and stepped forwards. He closed the door and took his time pacing the length of the room. Harrison kept working, making it a point not to watch Lionel. He knew that Lionel wanted his attention, and Harrison wasn’t inclined to give it to him.

“I must admit, you’ve had me quite turned around, Harrison. I’ve found myself with a new appreciation for dear Miss Havisham. I’m not used to being walked out on, it has me feeling quite the jilted bride.”

That man must have the world’s greatest talent for hyperbole. Harrison didn’t respond, he just kept fiddling with the screws. Lionel wasn’t deterred.

“This is a familiar scene isn’t it?” He remarked idly, leaning against a wall with his hands in his pockets. Harrison made a small noise of agreement and switched toolsets.

“How often did we find ourselves the only men left in the building, hard at work long after everyone else had gone home?”

Too often to count. Lionel was right, this scene was intimately familiar to the both of them. Even being the boss, Lionel was the hardest working man Harrison had ever met. There had been times when Harrison had doubted if the man ever slept. Lionel had probably wondered the same thing about him. Harrison suspected it wasn’t too far off in either case.

“Not as often as I found myself alone.” Harrison answered. He wasn’t about to let nostalgia confuse him.

“Of course.” Lionel agreed. “You’ve always thrown yourself body and soul into your work. It’s an admirable quality.”

Lionel let his compliment sit for a moment.

“It’s why I need you back.”

Harrison had heard that before, but he wasn’t about to believe it. Lionel didn’t need anybody. Or if he did, there was no chance he would ever tell you. Harrison bit his tongue to stop himself responding rashly. Lionel wasn’t finished.

“Centre stage isn’t where you belong.”

Harrison frowned, wondering where this negging was going.

“Don’t mistake me, Harrison. You do a more than adequate job of it. Your performances have no doubt convinced some poor fools into thinking you’re a charismatic charmer of a man.”

“I could be.” Harrison felt the need to protest. “It’s been a long time since you knew me.”

Lionel didn’t consider that for a second. His eyes bore into Harrison’s.

“I know you.” Lionel’s tone brooked no argument. “You may like the applause. You may revel in it, but you love the work. There’s a reason you didn’t name your company after yourself.”

“A lack of narcissistic ego?” Harrison suggested.

The lines on Lionel’s face deepened as he grinned. “Somehow I doubt it’s that.”

Harrison tested the generator again. He’d fixed one breaker, but thankfully it wasn’t enough. That meant he had to keep working, and as long as he was working he could buy time to think about what Lionel was telling him.

“Did you blacklist me?” Harrison asked without meaning to.

“I beg your pardon?”

Harrison was glaring stubbornly at the machinery. “I’ve heard that after I left LuthorCorp you tried to make sure no-one else would hire me.”

“Nonsense.” Lionel’s tone was less than convincing. “Though I see why one might think that. An ambitious, talented young engineer is a difficult to thing to lose.”

Harrison felt his stomach drop. He’d been trying not to answer that question for years, but Lionel had just answered it for him. Had he sounded a little more sincere, or even slightly abashed, Harrison might have been able to look past it.

“Sorry to disappoint but it was always going to be temporary. Biochemistry isn’t something I’m invested in, then or now.”

“I understand that your tastes run more theoretical nowadays.” Lionel’s voice came to him from the other side of the frame. Harrison frowned, the security grid was hardly theoretical, but there were projects at S.T.A.R. Labs that were. Projects that Lionel definitely shouldn’t know about.

“Have you been spying on me?” He asked.

Lionel’s head appeared around the side of the frame. He shrugged, smile giving nothing away. Harrison’s thumb got too close to the wiring and received a shock for its trouble. He stuck the singed skin in his mouth as he looked at Lionel.

“I have some research areas that are more, experimental than the norm.” Harrison conceded slowly.

“As do I.” Lionel told him. “My research areas could use a man like you to implement them.”

Was this why Lionel had come to the convention this weekend? Had Harrison been right that Lionel’s express purpose was talking to him and him alone? He tried not to think about how that made him feel.

“I’m not interested in agriculture.” Harrison was still confused about what exactly Lionel was asking him to do. Lionel gave him a curious look.

“The particular projects I have in mind have little to do with agriculture.”

“Then what interest does LuthorCorp have in them?”

Lionel took a step or two closer to Harrison, his hands clasped behind his back.

“LuthorCorp is interested because I am. There are matters rather close to my heart nowadays. Some, like yours, are very experimental in nature.”

Harrison’s curiosity was piqued, but he tried not to let it show. “What sort of work would you be talking about?”

“Oh there would be a great deal of variety.” Lionel said, casually. “However, I’m afraid I could disclose nothing in greater detail without a contract in place.”

“Sure.” Harrison replied, unimpressed. That was always Lionel’s routine.

“What I can tell you, is that should you join me, I do promise you some spectacular views. I wonder how much you’ve seen of Paris, or Hong Kong, or the icy tundras of the Arctic circle.”

What the hell was Lionel doing all the way out there? Harrison knew Lionel had only said it to make him ask that question, but it worked. He stood, dusting off his trousers. Behind him, the generator’s whirring picked up in speed and volume.

“What do you want, Lionel?”

Lionel didn't answer right away. He took another few steps forward Harrison.

“There’s no-one as good as you, Harrison. No-one has the mind, the vision to understand that _every obstacle to progress is a construct that was made to be torn down._ ”

Had Lionel memorised his whole damn speech? Harrison felt his breath quickening as Lionel kept coming closer.

“I want you Harrison.” Lionel growled. “Because I know when you say that obstacles are only good for being bypassed, you know what that means. When you say the laws of thermodynamics shouldn’t restrict us, it isn’t a joke. It’s a promise.”

He was too near now. Harrison knew what he was doing. Christ, he’d seen Lionel do the same thing yesterday at the bar. How dare he use his closer on Harrison when he didn’t even have the excuse of champagne to blame for the way he felt. Harrison was stone cold sober but his head was still swimming with the proximity of Lionel Luthor. Lionel’s voice was almost a whisper.

“Drs Wells and Luthor. What could possibly stand in our way?”

“An ethics investigation, maybe.”

Lionel had walked Harrison backwards to the wall behind him.

“Glib, Harrison, but I know you understand.” He breathed.

Without another word Lionel pressed his lips to Harrison’s and pushed him bodily against the plaster. Harrison was still, stunned by the intensity as Lionel ran his hands over Harrison’s chest and down his waist. When Lionel’s leg pressed too close to Harrison’s groin it startled him back to attention. All thought of how bad an idea this was vanished as he tangled his hands in Lionel’s long hair.

Lionel smiled against Harrison’s lips, making a delighted sound when Harrison tightened his grip. His mouth went to Harrison’s neck, and Harrison thanked the stars that he didn’t like to wear ties, because it meant Lionel could take full advantage of the bare skin he found. His beard scratched Harrison, but he didn’t care. Harrison just closed his eyes as Lionel’s hot breath explored his skin. When he opened them again, he was looking straight through the glass wall and almost caught the eye of a man walking down the hallway. Harrison immediately pushed Lionel away. Lionel made a noise of protest, but soon followed Harrison’s gaze to their unwelcome witness. The stranger glanced in their direction, sharing a polite nod with Harrison as he passed.

How could Harrison have forgotten, even for a moment, that one of the room’s walls was completely transparent? He couldn’t believe himself. Lionel smirked at Harrison’s worried expression.

“Are you really going to let-” was as far as Lionel’s condescension got before Harrison was on him.

He controlled the kiss this time, his hand back in Lionel’s hair. He used his command to push Lionel backwards, manoeuvring them both behind the big security box, where no-one could see them. Lionel took that as a challenge. Not to be outdone, his hands found their way to Harrison’s belt, which he quickly undid. He unzipped Harrison’s trousers and for a moment Harrison was out of himself, wondering how the hell he always ended up here. Lionel didn’t give him any time to think, trailing his fingers across the skin above Harrison’s boxers. A tingle of anticipation ran through him.

It took Harrison a second to realise that it wasn’t just anticipation that had his waistband buzzing. His phone was ringing in his pocket too. Harrison tried to pick it up but Lionel beat him to it. His free hand plucked the cell from the fabric of Harrison’s trousers. Lionel held the phone up, considering it. Christina’s name was printed on the screen, Harrison expected him to turn it off, but instead Lionel flipped it open and hit the call button.

Blood rushed to Harrison’s head and thrummed loudly in his eardrums as he tried to protest. Lionel put the phone to Harrison’s ear, and with his other hand, reached under Harrison’s waistband to begin gently stroking him.  

“Harry, I talked to the convenor about the problems we’ve been having. He’s said if we want to pull out of the trade show he can scrub our name from the list, but he wants you down here as well to sign off on it.”

Harrison felt the warmth rise up his neck into his cheeks. He was sure he was red as hell.

“No need.” He said it too loud, trying to sound normal. “I found the problem, generator was faulty.”

“Oh you miracle worker, that’s fantastic. Okay, I’ll let the convenor know and send the team up there to collect it.”

Harrison shut his eyes, wishing she had said anything else. There was no way he could tell her not to send the staff up. They had been working towards this night for months and he wouldn’t be able to explain to her why she needed to wait. What was he supposed to tell her, ‘actually could you hold off until I finish getting a hand job from my old boss that you hate and I lied to you about?’ No, there was nothing he could say.

“Sure, send them up.” Fuck.

“I should have known you’d pull it together at the last second.”

“Well, you know me. See you soon.”

Lionel snapped the phone shut before Christina could say goodbye. He slipped the cell back into Harrison’s pocket.

“That sounded important.”

Harrison nodded. “It was. I have to go.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Lionel’s hand didn’t stop.

“Come on, this is serious. There’s people coming here to get the system.”

Lionel’s hand was maddeningly slow, but he didn’t stop. Harrison could see the challenge in his eyes. He was sizing Harrison up to see whether he had the nerve to continue. Even after everything he thought about Lionel, and everything he knew about Lionel, Harrison still had this infuriating need to impress him. He looked Lionel in the eye and didn’t make a move to leave.

Lionel knew what he was doing, and Harrison had to grit his teeth to stop himself from crying out in pleasure and frustration. Anxiety too, if he was honest. Lionel knew how to make this last, but that was the last thing Harrison needed. Putting aside his dignity for a moment, though he was sure he would regret that, Harrison began to move with Lionel’s hand. He tried to get Lionel to pick up the pace by moving his hips faster. He was trying to force him to take the threat of discovery seriously. Except, that’s not what it looked like. What it looked like to Lionel, and to Harrison too, was that he was desperately bucking into Lionel’s hand, urgent and needy.

Finally, Lionel took pity on him and finished him off, but Harrison’s pride was already spent. He glared at Lionel wearily as Lionel zipped up Harrison’s trousers again and re-fastened his belt.

“Think about my offer.” Lionel’s tone was absurdly businesslike for what had just happened. “There’s so much more you can do Harrison, and I want to help you to do it.”

Harrison didn’t answer, but Lionel didn’t expect him to. He swept out of the room like Dracula turning into a swarm of bats. Quick and ominous but damned if it wasn’t cool. Harrison had a few moments to collect himself before his team arrived, for which he was grateful.

He thought he’d done a pretty good job of appearing normal again. And if, when the team entered the room with a trolley to help Harrison take the security grid down to the trade floor, any of them noticed the red flush still burning in Harrison’s cheeks, they had the good grace not to mention it. Harrison was sure they would put it down to anger, and was only troubled that he couldn’t do the same.


End file.
